


Et mors quai vêtus salutatus amicus

by W_S_Barret



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Bisexual Harry Potter, Blood Magic, Blood and Violence, Crossdressing, Curses, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Magic, Death Crossdresses, Death Magic, Death Rituals, Elemental Magic, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Gothic, Gothic Characters, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Violence, Old Magic, Order of the Phoenix Bashing, Personification of Death, Sybolism, The Twins; Bill and Charlie are chill though, They also are a dramatic little shit, They don't give a fuck, They're old as the universe, Weasley Family Bashing, Wolfstar is cool too, occultism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W_S_Barret/pseuds/W_S_Barret
Summary: The title means And I greeted Death as an old friend





	Et mors quai vêtus salutatus amicus

**-Godric's Hollow Halloween 1981-**

Lily Potter lay, clutching the sides of the crib that her son sat in. She was staring up at the man towering over her, her wand forgotten on the floor.  _ “No. Not Harry. Please take me instead. Just spare Harry!” _ She begged for her son’s life, offering her own instead. In the end it was futile as Voldemort raised his wand and spoke the last words Lily Potter would ever hear.  _ “Avada Kedavra.” _ A jet of green light shot out of the yew wand held in those bony spider like hands. It hit her square in the chest and she crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. The babe in the crib, Harry, peaked over the side wondering if his mother would pop back up laughing. As Voldemort turned his wand to Harry, he had no idea what events he was setting in motion. A single phrase from his lips was all it took.  _ “Avada Kedavra!” _ And the world went white.

When Harry James Potter opened his eyes he was laying in a space that was pure white. Everything from the walls, to the floor, to the glass ceiling was pure white. It hurt his eyes, so he closed them. He figured that the best thing to do was go back to sleep and wait for Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony to come. Maybe his mom and dad would get up too and they could all have fun. Putting his thumb in his mouth, he rolled over and fell asleep, not noticing a black shadow forming.

The figure walked over to the bundle of blankets lying in the center of the floor. The cloaked being picked it up and saw a babe lying there. Long white hair fell down and tickled Harry’s face. This caused him to wake up slightly, and he reached out and attempted to grab at the hair that was brushing his face. Curse green eyes met ones as black as the void, and the figure smiled. Harry giggled at the reaction and grabbed at the silvery hair. The being’s mouth opened and they said  _ “My Master. It is not time your time yet. You must stay in the world of the living.” _ And on those words, the being placed a single finger upon Harry’s forehead, and a blinding white light filled the space once more. 

**-16 years later-**

One hour. One hour till Voldemort would destroy the castle and everyone inside. Harry gripped the edge of the pensive, trying to catch his breath. He had to die, so that Voldemort could too. Now every action, every talk that he had with Dumbledore made sense. The old man had been pushing and prodding him towards this. Like a lamb to slaughter, he had been raised specifically for this. It made Harry wonder if everything else in his life, his friends, the order, everything had been orchestrated to push him towards this. Did he even have any friends who really cared about him?

He guessed that it didn’t really matter anymore. He was still going to die. Hopefully Ginny or Ron or Hermionie could kill nagini and defeat Voldemort. Checking the gold pocket watch that had once belonged to Fabian Prewitt, Harry saw that he had only half an hour left. Fastening the invisibility cloak around his neck, he slid the hood over his head and left the office. Trodding silently down the battleworn and abandoned hallways of the school. Harry half-wished that someone would come along and stop him. But the cloak’s power was too good; anyone who passed him wouldn’t see him at all.

It wasn’t until he passed the great hall where the dead and wounded were being brought in that he encountered people. Almost bumping into Oliver Wood and Neville made him look down and he noticed that they were carrying the body of Colin Creevy. Memories flooded Harry’s mind as he remembered Colin as a bright and happy boy, always clutching his camera. He must have snuck back to fight in the battle, and died for his efforts. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued walking towards the forest.

The battlefield was littered with the corpses of those still not retrieved, death eaters, and giants who were too heavy to move. There was a sense of depression and hopelessness hanging in the air around the battlefield. He noticed that Hermione was sitting and treating a wounded person, and Harry had a fleeting impulse to go and run over to her. He knew that she might be able to talk him out of what he was going to do. Instead his feet carried him past the stone where Hermione was, towards the forest. 

Slowly he passed the pockmarked, burned, and scared, battlefield, and ended up at the treeline. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the snitch, and without thinking held it to his lips. The wings fluttered tiredly, and the words  _ “I open at the close.” _ appeared in thin slanting writing on it. Finally Harry knew what it meant and thought  _ “I am about to die.” _ And the snitch cracked open revealing a stone with a rough carving on its surface. The resurrection stone. It made sense that Dumbledore would hide it in a place like this.

Taking the stone from it’s hollow gold casing, he felt almost as if a sense of calm washed over him. It may be something to do with accepting his impending death. The forest path that he was walking down was barely there. Though something about the forest felt off, there was pure silence and no creature was there. It seems that Voldemort’s followers had run them out of their home. 

The voices of Dolohow and Yaxley echoed through the forest. As they grew closer Harry tugged the invisibility cloak tighter, and followed them, leading into a grove of yew and hawthorn trees. They must have chosen the den of Aragog and his family to reside in. But it was abandoned, the araculomantulas forced out and into the battle. Most of them were probably dead. 

Tattered webs hung from the trees, and brushed the tops of a few of the taller members heads, and a fire crackled in the center of the clearing. Silently taking a step forward Harry could see that some of them no longer wore their masks. No point in hiding their faces, when they thought that they would win. Fenrir Greyback sat near the shadows, restless and ready to fight to hunt. A few others had injuries, while the Malfoys were surrounded by an aura of fear. Lucius more so than Narcissa. 

Meanwhile Voldemort sat at where the head was supposed to be. Bellatrix was almost clinging to him like a lover, while Nagini remained in the starry cage next to him. The two death eaters knelt before Voldemort and that high cruel voice spoke.

“Yaxley. Dolohow. Has Potter come?”

It was Yaxley who spoke, though he looked terrified. “N-no my lord. There is no trace of him.” 

“Hmn. I thought he would come. But it seems that he is too cowardly to show his face and will let his friends and supporters die for him.”

Harry stepped out and pulled off the invisibility cloak. “Your wrong.” His voice echoed around the clearing and it was surprisingly calm. 

Hagrid struggled against the ropes holding him, as Harry finally noticed him as he shouted “NO. HARRY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GO! GET AWAY FROM HERE!”

“Silence Oaf.” And with a bang of Tom Riddle’s wand Hagrid fell silent. He could see the lips move, and the cold voice echoed around the clearing. “Harry Potter… the boy who lived.” The last thing he saw was Voldemort almost lovingly lift the elder wand, and as if savoring the moment, softly said the words  _ “Avada Kedavra!” _ There was a flash of green and the world went white. 

* * *

He was lying face down somewhere, and it was dead silent. It couldn’t be the forest because there would be leaves and twigs pressing into his skin, and where he was didn’t smell like the forest. The floor wasn’t warm or cool, it simply was. As if it existed simply to be a place to stand or sit on. He realized that he was naked and now wished that he was clothed for the first time since going to Hogwarts. Sitting up he noticed that there was a set of robes, near him. Pulling them over his head he realized that he wasn’t wearing his glasses yet he could still see clearly. 

Standing up he looked around and the room appeared to be going in all directions, and the ceiling appeared to be made completely out of frosted white glass. He wouldn’t help but think of King’s Cross Station. It appeared that he was alone save for a bundle of black cloth. Walking over he bent down and unwrapped the top of the bundle and reeled back in disgust and horror. Had he been holding the bundle he would have dropped it. A small naked toddler lay in it, stuffed under a bench unwanted and uncared for. It’s skin was raw and rough, and appeared to have a scaly texture. The toddler was shaking, struggling and gasping for breath.

_ “You cannot help it.” _ Harry turned around after hearing a voice. It sounded like a bit like parseltongue, but made him think more of the wind blowing through the trees. He whipped around to find the source of the voice, but there was no one there. 

“Why can’t I?” His voice echoed throughout the space, and he kept turning in a circle to find the voice. Oddly he felt as if freezing cold hands were running themselves over his shoulder. The voice came again carried on a gust of wind.  _ “ It is a fragment of a soul. Pain will be all it knows until the rest of the soul is reunited with the fragment. There is nothing you can do.” _

“Who are you? Please show yourself” Harry was sure that the voice’s source, if he could see it, would be smiling. The wind swirled around him and sounded like it was laughing. As the breeze faded, he kept looking around trying to see it anyone showed up.  _ “I am what is at the end of every journey. Of every life. I am the only thing that is promised, from the moment you are born to when you take your last breath. Who am I? I think you already know.” _

“Are you Death?” The breeze picked up, as if the being behind it found what he had said very funny. Harry was glad that he was wearing a jacket, because if he wasn’t, he was sure that he would have been very cold. It settled behind him and the voice sounded again.  _ “Clever boy. Yes I am. No wonder that old coot tried to bind you through this.” _

This time the voice came behind him, and Harry turned to see a figure cloaked in black. They appeared to be wearing a long sleeved black dress with silver embroidery and an old fashioned hooded traveling cloak. Long white hair was visible from under the hood and the skin that he could see was pale white, though not like Voldemort, more like corpse white. The pale white hands were adorned with rings, and the nails were solid black and ended in small points, and they grasped the edge of the hood and pulled it back.

Harry felt a gasp catch in his throat for the person underneath the hood could only be described as beautiful. The person had long white hair with three braids, with small animal bones braided in at regular intervals. Their eyes were completely black even the whites were the color of the void. And their face was androgynous, he couldnt tell if they were male or female. For some reason he couldn’t help but feel as if he knew the person when looking at them.

“Am I dead?” He was surprised at how normal his voice sounded. Death’s mouth twisted into what could only be described as a half smile and they spoke. 

_ “Yes. And no. You are in a place that is in-between life and death. This is a place with no name though you mortals often refer to it as purgatory. In truth this is a place for the souls of the dead to wait before fully passing on.” _

“So I could go onto the afterlife if I wanted to.”

“ _ Yes you could.” _

“But what about my friends? A-and Ginny? If we survive the battle I’m going to make up with her. What about everyone else?”

_ “Friends.” _ Death said the word slowly; like they were savoring it. They cocked their head and continued speaking  _ “Are you sure they are your friends? After all you yourself have doubts about their loyalty. And Miss Weasley. What proof do you have that she actually loves you? Dumbledore has been manipulating you for your entire life, so how are you sure that she isn’t a part of his plans.” _

Harry’s speech faltered at those words. He couldn’t help but think about how they had a point. All those conversations they had been having without him. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be pushing him towards this. He hadn’t met Bill and Charlie often, but when he did they always seemed to be a bit at odds with their family. They seemed to be wanting to break away from their family, mainly the overbearing influence of their mother.

Gred and Forge had wanted, and managed to start a joke shop, when Mrs. Weasley wanted them to go into the ministry. He remembered her blowing up at them after they got 3 O.W.L.s between them. About how she destroyed everything they had worked on over their Hogwarts career. Looking back she tried to control everything for her family, and by proxy him. He couldn’t help but think about how she hid her controlling nature behind a motherly facade. 

"Why? Why did she do this?" Harry couldn't help but think about how everything she had said about him being family was a lie. It stung to know that the woman he considered to be a mother figure was only using him. And for what reason? Why would she want to manipulate him?

_ “Would you like to know?” _ Harry had almost forgotten about Death. Their voice seemed to echo in this space even though there were no walls. Overtaken by curiosity he nodded wanting to know the truth after having been lied to for so long.

Death cocked their head and started to speak  _ “For the wizarding families you refer to as “purebloods” have power and money in your system based on something that does not matter. When one of these families ‘falls from grace’ they long to gain that power and wealth back. You saw it with the Gaunts and them attempting to grasp at power by using their heritage. Dumbledore must have promised her that she would get a large sum of money, or your fortune if she kept you on the path to being a lamb to slaughter. If you choose to go back I would ask the goblins at gringotts. They could never be manipulated by Dumbledore and he hates that.” _

“Alright I can do that. Sorry to change the topic but why are you here?”

_ “Because you united the hallows; my hallows. They do not make one the Master of Death, for I choose my master. Very rarely does someone who truly deserve to become my master unites the hallows. You came here instead of passing on, because I wanted to speak to you. Rarely do I give someone the choice of returning to the world of the living or passing on. Should you accept becoming the Master of Death then you will never age, never die, as long as you choose so. Do you have a choice?” _

“Yeah. I think I’d like to go back. I mean I still have unfinished business there. And there are a few things I’d like to check. Can I please think about the Master of Death thing?”

_ “Of course. You can accept it at any time you wish. Would you like me to send you back now?” _

Harry nodded wanting to head back and figure out the truth for himself. After the battle he planned to go back to gringotts and speak with the goblin who managed his family account. He was almost lost in his thoughts as Death moved forward, and he couldn’t help but notice that they were barefoot. He felt their finger upon his forehead, and the world went white before he woke up, back in the forest clearing.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that the relationship tag says M/M but I'm writing Death with they/them pronouns due to the fact that they are a primordial force that is as old if not older than the universe. Death only has male reproductive anatomy because Harry's more into dudes than girls, he just didn't really have any words for it due to growing up in a conservative household. Also can it be considered crossdressing if the one crossdressing isn't really either sex?


End file.
